


The Hearthstone

by Twelvefootmountaintroll



Series: Seven Stones [7]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Broh Week, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-16
Updated: 2012-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-12 06:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twelvefootmountaintroll/pseuds/Twelvefootmountaintroll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bolin teaches Iroh about an old Earth Kingdom tradition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hearthstone

It’s a few years in the making and every second is worth it.

It doesn’t matter how it finally happens, really. Maybe it happens aboard the General’s ship; maybe in a training room in the pro-bending stadium. Maybe it’s done with a smile and maybe with a kiss. The part the matters, and the part that’s for sure, is that it was done with love.

“What’s this?” Iroh says, of course, never quite having gotten the knack for predicting Bolin (aren’t earthbenders supposed to be the steady, consistent ones?).

“A hearthstone.”

“I see. And why have you given it to me?”

“It’s an old Earth Kingdom tradition.”

“Ah.” Iroh still doesn’t seem to get it, though at least he can see there’s something there to _get_ , by the look on his face. There’s a comforting weight in the rough stone in his hands—it’s a weight of consequence, but not of retribution; a weight of promise, not of threat. What’s in a hearthstone?

“A hearth,” Bolin says, gripping, ever so gently, Iroh’s wrists and supporting their load, “goes in the center of the home.”

Iroh leans forward, rests his forehead against Bolin’s. “Does that mean you want to make a home with me?”

“Exactly.”

And they kiss. It’s not like their first kiss, rushed by uncertainty.  It’s not like those that followed, either, bright and passionate and just a little bit desperate. It’s a familiar kiss. It’s one that says, _I’m right here in front of you, exactly where I want to be_.

“The tradition also says that by taking the hearthstone, you’ve accepted my proposal. No takesies-backsies!”

“Sly devil. It seems I have no choice.”

“Nope.” Bolin kisses him again. “You’re stuck with me.”

Iroh grins. “Are there any other Earth Kingdom traditions I ought to be aware of before they hook me?”

“Well...” Bolin takes the stone back and sets it on the General’s nightstand (aboard his ship, after all).

“It’s also tradition for those who accept the hearthstone to voice their undying love to the other.”

“That one’s not so bad, is it?” Iroh clasps his hands behind Bolin’s head, leaning forward so that their bodies press together from chest to hip; it’s a craving he can never satisfy.

“While juggling fire.”

“Oh?”

“Standing on one foot.”

“Ah.”

“In a rowboat in a thunderstorm.”

“Bolin.”

“Hm?”

“I’d sing a thousand ballads for you in front of my entire crew if you wanted me to. But I think I’d rather make do with some rather more private... ah, confessions.”

“You just want me for my body, don’t you!” Bolin’s accusation is accompanied by a suitable pout.

Actually, in their first encounters—tentative exploration driven by reckless desire—Bolin had been the one to act first. Iroh had worried (too much, Bolin said, but could he really have loved the man who worried less?) over his age and rank, worried that he was taking advantage or acting unwisely. So it was Bolin’s fingers that eased away his fears and Bolin’s lips that whispered soothing reassurances before they discovered the truth of wanting bodies.

But now it’s Iroh’s hands guiding Bolin, backing him up to the nightstand and nudging aside the hearthstone, Iroh’s shoulders providing the force to lift him up, and Iroh’s thigh pressing between his knees.

“I’m not going to lie and say it isn’t a big perk,” Iroh says. He already has Bolin’s shirt halfway unbuttoned.

“What was it Mako called you the day we told everyone about us?” Bolin sits back, watching with amusement. “An ‘over-entitled old Fire Nation creep’?”

“Sounds about right.”

“And here we are. I just told you I want to build a home with you and you just want to get into my pants.” Bolin squirms as Iroh’s lips ghost over his stomach and hip. “Hey, stop, that tickles!”

“What can I say? I can’t help that I’m attracted to bold young earthbenders.”

“Hm. I don’t think you’re allowed to go to any more pro-bending matches. It’s probably like a hunting ground for you.”

Iroh doesn’t answer. Instead, he straightens up to kiss Bolin again and start removing his own shirt. This one is a little heavier, like their lips are two puzzle pieces that almost fit held in hands desperate to make them work.

“Hey, seriously, are you all right?” Bolin asks, holding Iroh’s chin and looking him straight in the eye.

Iroh’s hand is undeterred by this pause, dropping down to feel the growing bulge in Bolin’s partly undone pants.

“Bo,” he breathes. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for that hearthstone?”

“But—you said you didn’t know about that tradition.”

“I lied.” He gives an exaggerated glance to the adjacent corner of the room, where a plate-sized package lies on the end of his bed.

“Is that—?”

“Yes.”

“You had it boxed up like a present?”

“Laid on a bed of down and tied with golden ribbon.”

“Iroh?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”


End file.
